Forgotten
by rexlover180
Summary: There was...an accident. Alfred didn't mean for anything to happen to him! And now he can't remember anything. Not even that he's a country. USUK and FrUK
1. Chapter 1

The world was black. Delicately pale fingers only barely touched soft sheets. There was beeping going on in the back ground. It went at a steady rhythm, almost like a heartbeat.

_Beep…Beep…Beep…Beep…Beep…_

It was so calming, it would almost lull a person to sleep. Wait a second…A heart monitor, Arthur knew what that meant. He opened his eyes quickly, sitting up, but feeling a sharp pain in his stomach and shoulder.

There was a man who seemed that like he was just previously sleeping at the foot of his bed that rushed to his side. With a comforting touch, he pushed Arthur back to a lying position on the bed. The man was slightly attractive, sandy blonde hair with only a small part of it going straight up. His eyes were a beautiful blue, and he had glasses, perched just at his nose.

"Easy, Arthur," the man spoke. His voice was sharp and annoying. Yet there was something about it that calmed Arthur down. That name, it sounded so familiar. Arthur had to think…that was his name, right? "The doc said you need to relax."

Doc…That meant doctor, right? Why the hell did he need a doctor? Arthur looked down at himself. When he sat up, the sheets had fallen off of his torso. When he looked down at it, he was shirtless, but he had bandages all over him, going across his chest and his stomach. And one going over his shoulder. It didn't hit him until then, but he was in a massive amount of pain.

"With your injuries," the man rubbed the back of his head, "a normal person would have been dead. And the doctor acknowledged that. So…I…kinda had to tell him the truth. Please don't be mad at me!" The man cringed, like Arthur would hit him or something. It made no sense. This man looked far stronger than Arthur looked.

What did he mean dead? What truth?

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Arthur's voice came out strangled and raspy, like he hadn't talked in days. With the looks of him, he might not have.

"Come on, Artie, don't play dumb!" this man talked with Arthur so casually, like he knew him closely or something.

"I-I don't understand. Who are you?" Arthur used his hand that wasn't attached to the heart monitor to hold his head. It was really starting to hurt. He could feel bandages on that, too as he touched it.

"A-Alfred…" the annoying voice of the man died down. Like what he had just said hurt his feelings. "I'm Alfred. C-can't you remember that? You named me that, after all," Alfred tried to make it into a joke by laughing. But Arthur wasn't getting it.

"I'm sorry, I don't know you," Arthur stared at Alfred. This man seemed completely devastated at the fact Arthur couldn't remember him.

"Wait, do you remember Francis?" Arthur shook his head. Francis? "Mathew? Ludwig? Antonio?" Alfred became frantic with the names as Arthur kept on shaking his head with each name. What were these names? Were these people he knew? Such a large variety of ethnicities. What kind of person was he?

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Arthur shook his head. Come to think of it…what did he remember about his life? He knew his name…Arthur. What was his last name? What else did he know? He spoke in a British accent, probably from instinct from talking with it his whole life. How old was he? Alfred was obviously American. What was going on?

"Shit…" Alfred started pacing in the small hospital room. His voice started to waver as he talked. "The-the doc said that-that the impact…Shit…You really can't remember anything?"

"I-I'm sorry, no," Arthur was scared of the American. What was going on?

"You…you can't remember me? Anything we did together?"

"I'm sorry, we did something together?" Arthur questioned as a man in a lab coat walked into the room. He was guessing that was the doctor.

"Good morning, Mister Kirkland, glad to see you're awake," he was British, too. The doctor helped Arthur sit up and lean against the headboard of the bed. He pulled out a stethoscope and plugged the ear buds into his ears and started listening to Arthur's heart. "How long have you been awake?"

"Um, not very long," Kirkland, was that his last name?

"Your friend told me about your…special situation," the doctor smiled, pulling down the ear buds and wearing the stethoscope like a necklace. "At first, I didn't believe him. It sounded so…preposterous!"

"Doc…" Alfred shook his head. "He, uh, he can't remember anything."

"Really?" the doctor sighed happily. "It's a lovely story, I'll tell you. It was a slow day here for me. I had gotten no patients all night. And, from out of nowhere, this young lad comes running in, holding you, unconscious in his arms. You were both covered in lacerations and bruises," the doctor turned to mess with something at a table that Arthur couldn't see. "You were suffering the most, though. You had a major cut a little higher than your forehead, glass shards all over your chest and arm. You're right shoulder was dislocated and you were bleeding severely from your stomach. He, on the other hand," the doctor turned back to the two, he had a flashlight in his hand and he proceeded to check Arthur's pupils. "He was bleeding everywhere, with bruises up and down his body. But he insisted that you were taken care of before anyone so much as looked at him."

"Wh-what happened?" Arthur questioned.

"Car crash," Alfred answered too quickly, almost angrily. Arthur could tell it was a lie. But why lie to a doctor? He already knew their "secret," apparently.

"So, your memory's gone?" the doctor continued as if the two hadn't spoken. "It doesn't seem like you have a concussion. Must have been some sort of trauma that caused you to loose your memory. Mister Jones," the doctor turned towards Alfred, walking over to where he stood on the other side of Arthur's bed. "you seem to have retained all of your memories. Care to tell me the details of this car crash?"

"Um…well…you see…" Alfred struggled to think of something to say. "I need to call some people," he pulled out his cell phone and started walking out of the room. "Tell them Artie's awake." His voice seemed depressed almost. As if thinking about Arthur forgetting about him was the worst thing that could ever happen to him.

"I've been trying to get the details out of him ever since you got here," the doctor sighed, turning towards Arthur again. "All I ever get is 'car crash.' And he's been on the phone with a lot of people for the past couple days as well. It seems a lot of people care about you."

"Really?" Arthur couldn't help but be surprised by that statement. He felt like no one would have really cared about him.

"Oi! Let me in that room right now!" Arthur heard a Scottish accent from beyond the voice.

"H-hold on!" Alfred's voice sounded from the hallway. "You…you don't know what Arthur's been through! Please just hold on before you go in there!"

"Shut it!" the Scottish accent sounded harsh, almost terrifying. "He's my brother! I need to see what your idiocy brought him!"

A man rushed into the room, this one with bright red hair and green eyes. He looked rather tall in stature, and his face was cold. The minute he saw Arthur, his eyes grew wide. Did he really look that bad?

"Holy shit, Arthur!" the man rushed to Arthur's side, staring at him in wonder. "What the hell did you get yourself into this time, you idiot?"

"I-I'm sorry," Arthur muttered. "I…I don't know who you are."

"What the hell?" the man demanded.

"Excuse me, sir," the doctor rushed over to the man. "Please don't be so loud. You are in a hospital."

"I can yell however the hell I want to yell!" the man snapped at the doctor. "Now tell me what the fuck happened to my little brother!"

"I will not be talked to in that manner, sir," the doctor tried to assert a dominance he obviously didn't have over the man.

"Scotland!" Alfred snapped at the man. At first, Arthur didn't understand. That must have been some nickname for him. The man looked like he could have been a Scott… "Get over here!"

The two men disappeared into the hallway, but their conversation didn't.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HIM?" the Scottish man exploded.

"I-I didn't do anything!" Alfred's voice argued back. "We were just trying to go somewhere…"

"You were trying to get fucking laid, weren't you?" the Scottish voice barked at Alfred.

"No! I wasn't!" Alfred argued. "We were trying… Shit, we can't talk here! Come on!" There were loud footsteps as the two walked away.

"Sure seems like you have a nice family," the doctor muttered sarcastically.

"Apparently," Arthur sighed. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He felt so bad. These people came into this room, caring about him. And he didn't know who they were. He couldn't even recognize his own brother.

Who was going to be next? What random character was going to come into the room that cares about him that he had to turn down because he couldn't remember them?

But there was one thing that concerned Arthur the most out of everything else. Alfred was hiding something. What was that "secret" that he told the doctor? And what happened during the "car crash?"

***Page Break***

After a while of fighting, Alfred came back into the room, the Scottish man didn't. America had turned on the TV after asking Arthur if it was okay. And Arthur wound up falling asleep to Transformers or some American movie like that.

In his sleep, he heard voices. All of them sounded worried, but all of them sounded different. All with different accents. They didn't stay in Arthur's dreams for long, not anywhere near long enough to know what accent they were.

He also heard voices he recognized, saying things he couldn't understand. Voices yelling at him, telling him to go somewhere. _Run. Fast! Don't let him get to you!_

"Arthur," Alfred's voice calmly slipped into Arthur's dream. "Arthur, you need to get up now."

Arthur groaned, like a little child not wanting to go to school. His dream was nice, it seemed so pretty when he thought about it. He almost forgot where he was. The _Beep…Beep…Beep…_sounded into his dream. His eyelids floated up, to find Alfred's eyes looking straight into his.

"Yeah…?" Arthur groaned, he really didn't want to wake up.

"Doc says we need to switch your bandages," Alfred smiled slightly, as if hoping Arthur could remember him. No such luck.

"And it couldn't wait until I woke up?" Arthur lifted up one eyebrow.

"Um…" Alfred shifted uncomfortably. "We need to check and make sure of something."

"What is that?" Arthur groaned. He was tired. Why couldn't he sleep?

"Just…please trust me, okay?"

"Trust you? I don't know you," Arthur rolled over to the other side. He closed his eyes to fall back asleep."Aaarthuuur…" Alfred let out a whine. "Please?"

"Shut up…" Arthur sighed before he sat up in his bed. He hadn't noticed that the doctor was in the room with them until he finished sitting up.

"If you two are finished," the doctor sighed before stepping towards Arthur. "Does your shoulder or stomach hurt at all?"

"No, not that I can tell," Arthur sat uncomfortably.

"What about your head? That hurt any?"

"A little before I fell asleep, but not anymore," Arthur didn't know how long he had slept. His room didn't have any windows, so he couldn't tell the time of day through that.

The doctor hummed slightly. "Okay, I'm going to take off the bandages really quick, see how the wounds are healing, and then decide from there if we need to put new ones on. Alright?"

Arthur nodded and he lifted up his arm to help the doctor start to unwrap the bandages around his waist. He couldn't help but blush slightly once he noticed Alfred was still in the same room as him while his chest was getting exposed. He looked all pale and pasty, and thin and lanky. He didn't know why he was embarrassed with him seeing him. He couldn't have a crush on a boy, that was disgusting. That wasn't right.

As the bandages were being unwrapped, he noticed that there was nothing there. Not even scars. How long ago was this crash? Was this a prank? Why weren't there any scars?

"What?" Arthur was the only one surprised to see him healed so fast. "How did-"

"Looks like you won't be needing any more bandaging," the doctor smiled as he went to throw away the old bandages. "Let's check your head really quick," the doctor unwound the bandages over Arthur's head and threw those away, too. "Looks like you'll be ready to go in no time," the doctor smiled again.

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on," Arthur still couldn't get a hold on how he healed so fast. "You said I was a mess just a couple days ago. I had a dislocated shoulder and gashes everywhere. How could I be back to normal this fast?"

"You still haven't told him?" the doctor looked like he completely ignored what Arthur had just said and looked over at Alfred.

"I don't know what to say," Alfred shrugged. "I was hoping one of the others could help me. But he was asleep when they came to visit," he kicked at something in the air.

"I have a feeling you need to do this yourself," the doctor sighed and then turned his attention back to Arthur. "If you feel uncomfortable shirtless, would you like me to bring you a shirt?"

"I would prefer to know what the hell is going on, thank you," Arthur snapped. He was irritated at the fact that people kept ignoring him.

"I'm going to go get you a shirt," the doctor chuckled and quickly stepped out of the room.

Arthur groaned. "Alfred, or whatever the hell your name is, tell me what is going on."

"It's kind of a long story," Alfred sighed as he pulled a chair up close to the bed. He took in a deep breath, as if he was about to say something important.

"You are the physical representation of the country of England."

* * *

><p><strong>This story was just a random inspiration that popped up out of nowhere. I hope people like it!<strong>

**I don't own anything, like Hetalia, or a hospital, or my computer...**

**Please review so I can write more and feel good about myself!**


	2. Chapter 2

At first, Arthur had no idea what he was hearing. Was this man crazy? How did he know him?

"Wh-what?" Arthur demanded, scooting slightly away from him in his bed. "A-are you crazy?"

"Doc said the same thing," Alfred gave out a weak smile. "But you need to listen."

Alfred could have kept talking, but Arthur cut him off. "I will not listen to you! I don't know who the hell you are! You-you think it's funny to make fun of the amnesiac?"

"Arthur," Alfred reached over the bed awkwardly to grab onto Arthur's shoulders. "Listen." There was something in those eyes. Something that made Arthur shut up. There was another thing inside those orbs. He was truly concerned for Arthur. "I-I'm not used to being in this situation… Trying to help people with stuff like this. But I want you to remember. So please hear me out."

Arthur waited in silence, allowing Alfred to continue. "Okay, so, there's a physical representation of every country. We…you know them all. You have existed as a person since the beginning of England, doing whatever your boss wanted you to do." Alfred seemed uneasy with this, like he had never had to do this before. Which he probably didn't. "The…um…the only reason you healed so fast is because you're a country, and the only thing that really leaves scars on you is, like, war. If a country physically hurts you. Or if something happens to your country, like economy makes you sick, and…um…" Alfred looked up at the ceiling, as if to try to think of something. "Um…if another country were to hurt you, that happens to your country, too. Kinda like when Japan shot me and Pearl Harbor, like, exploded."

"So, this means you're America?" Arthur still wasn't quite wrapping his head around this. Countries, as people? How can someone live that long?

"Yeah…you raised me…" Alfred was shifting uncomfortably, like bringing up their relationship hurt him inside. "You're kinda like my brother. We-we met back when you were a pirate, and when I was really little."  
>"We're brothers?" Arthur questioned. This made it even worse for him. He definitely couldn't like Alfred now. They were both guys and he was his brother? Then why did he still feel attracted to him?<p>

"Um…yeah…" Alfred shifted uncomfortably.

"So, I was a pirate?" Arthur asked another question. He still didn't believe the fact that he was England.

"Yeah!" Alfred lit up, and he took in a deep breath, like he was going to tell a story. "You were like the best one out there! Every time you saw a French or Spanish ship, you left them blown to pieces! You were the best shot in the world! You would always get who you wanted to kill, dead on! You were amazing with head shots and you could swing a sword like no one else!"

"And how do you know all this?" Arthur was starting to believe what Alfred was saying. What with all the enthusiasm he was expressing as he talked.

"You told me stories," Alfred's smile didn't leave him yet. "When I was little, though, you said they were about some other man, you named him Alfred. I think that was just to make me feel happy, that I was named after such a cool pirate." The way Alfred spoke, so melancholy, Arthur _did_ believe him. There was something in his gut, telling him that he had been a pirate…long ago. "But when I got older, you told me the pirate was you. I guess you didn't want to seem like a bad role model when I was growing up."

"Wait," Arthur stopped him. "If what you are saying is true, that we are countries," Arthur almost scoffed at the thought of him saying something so…outrageous, "then the…um… the American revolution…"

"Yeah, we fought each other," Alfred muttered, like he didn't like talking about that. Arthur could even feel himself not wanting to talk about it. "It-it was all my fault, though. I was being stupid," Alfred rubbed the back of his head. "I still can't believe I actually beat you. You were a really good fighter back then."

"Back then?" Arthur felt hurt. Was he not as amazing as Alfred had said anymore? "Well, what about now?" Arthur demanded and Alfred grinned.

"So, you believe me now?" that smile Alfred gave…it almost melted Arthur.

"I-I'm not saying I do," Arthur felt himself blush slightly. "You were just talking about me like I was go great…What about now?"

"You still are great, England," Alfred grinned and stood up as the doctor came back in, throwing Arthur a shirt, which he caught. Arthur had forgotten about his not wearing a shirt with Alfred's story. He gladly put the shirt on as Alfred moved the chair he had used back to where it was.

The shirt was a plain white T-shirt, so it still showed his thin, lanky arms. Then Arthur noticed the doctor was disconnecting him to the heart monitor.

"What are you doing?" Arthur was alarmed at first.

"You never really needed this," the doctor chuckled. "It was just to make it look normal to the passersby. You can stay over night and then you'll probably be able to leave."

The doctor then turned to start working with something Arthur couldn't see. And then another person walked into the door. He had long, blonde hair and blue eyes, not as blue as Alfred's but still pretty none the less. He was holding something that looked like a stuffed bear in his hand. His expression turned from worried to relieved once he saw Arthur.

"Dieu merci, votre alright," he sighed. It took Arthur a minute to realize that the man had just spoken French. The man dropped the stuffed animal and rushed to Arthur's side. The man looked like he was about to hug Arthur, but he stopped himself. "Alfred told me about you loosing your memories," his French accent was thick, but Arthur could understand him.

"Um…right," Arthur felt awkward around this new edition in the room.

"So, you probably don't remember me," the man sounded disappointed at the fact he just stated. "M-my name is Francis."

"He's also the country of France," Alfred sighed as he turned on the TV. Some cartoon turned on. It was obvious Alfred was angry at him. And the face Francis gave him…it was obvious that he was angry at Alfred, too.

"Oh," Arthur looked down and twiddled his thumbs.

"So, you don't remember the night of the-" Francis started.

"Car crash," Alfred finished.

"No," Arthur shook his head, still looking down.

"Car crash?" Arthur heard Francis whisper over his head to Alfred.

"Just go with it," Alfred whispered in response.

"I can hear you," Arthur sighed, lifting his head up to look at the TV. It looked like some super hero cartoon. Naturally what you would expect from America. Did Arthur believe that whole country thing? He wasn't quite sure yet.

"So, are you two still…?" Francis suggested something that Arthur ignored.

"I haven't told him about that yet," Alfred replied hurriedly.

"So, that would mean he's free now?" Francis laughed.

"You're such a pervert!" Alfred snapped.

"I'm taking that as a yes," Francis made this "honhonhonhon" sound.

After tuning the two out, it didn't take long for Arthur to drift into sleep again.

* * *

><p><em>There was a little kid's laughter. It was a bright day outside and Arthur was sitting down in a field of tall, golden wheat.<em>

_"I found you!" the kid poked his head through the wheat, he wasn't even tall enough to see above the wheat. The kid looked so much like someone he knew._

_"Hello there, America," Arthur chuckled in a warm voice. He lifted up the child, holding him up in the air above his head. The kid had a huge smile and was laughing non-stop._

_"Stop, Mister England," the kid was laughing so hard. "Put me down."_

_Arthur was laughing with the child, moving his arms to make the kid fly around above the ground. Soon, he put the child down and rolled over onto his stomach. He was face-to-face with the child._

_"Come on!" the child giggled, pulling on Arthur's arm. "It's your turn to find me!"_

_"But you're just so good at this game," Arthur laughed, this kid was truly making him happy. Was this…? "I don't think I'd be able to find you. You might get lost…forever!"_

_"No, no, no!" the child protested, pulling on Arthur's arm harder. This kid was so strong, he almost made Arthur fall over. "I'm gonna hide and you're gonna find me!" the child protested, explaining the process of the game he had come up with._

_"Alright, alright," Arthur tried to calm the hyper child down. "I will start counting, you go hide."_

_As the kid ran through the golden wheat, the sky melted to black. The black soon melted into the rest of the scene, the peacefulness retreating quickly. The wheat turned into a street in the bad part of town. It was dark, Arthur could barely see anything._

_"Arthur, run!"_

_Arthur could barely tell where he was going, but he was running for his life. His heart was pounding as he ran away, but he could hear the tell-tale sign of someone footsteps following him close behind. There was a gun shot just above his head._

_"Bugger!" Arthur shouted in surprise and rounded a corner into an alley way. He didn't expect it to be a dead end and he slammed into the brick wall, jamming his head into it._

_He turned around quickly, the footsteps that were behind him slowed to a walk and he heard a deep chuckle._

_"You're mine now."_

* * *

><p>Arthur sat up quickly, gasping for air. Alfred sat up quickly from his chair<em>, <em>like he had just been sleeping, too. Francis wasn't in the room and neither was the doctor. What time was it?

"Whoa, Arthur, you okay?" Alfred rushed to his side.

Arthur held his head, "Yeah, fine." What was that dream? A memory?

"You sure?" Alfred looked genuinely concerned.

Arthur forced out a smile and nodded. "I'm fine," he assured him. "Just a nightmare."

"What was it?" Alfred asked.

"Nothing, I can't even remember it," Arthur lied. He wished he could remember who that was in the alley way, their face was shrouded in darkness.

"You're sure?" Alfred said cautiously.

"Yes, America," Arthur sighed, he was getting annoyed by him. By the time he had realized what he just said, Alfred was grinning like an idiot.

"I was starting to miss you talking to me like that," he spoke happily.

"You missed me talking to you with annoyance?" Arthur didn't understand.

"That's just how you talk to everyone," Alfred chuckled.

"I do?" Arthur couldn't help but grin. "I sound like such a fun person," he sighed sarcastically.

"You are," Alfred smiled at him and Arthur shifted uncomfortably. Alfred just seemed so…attractive. Arthur could just feel himself wanting to like him. But he couldn't allow himself to. If Alfred was right, they were brothers. That's just wrong, right?

"Um…thank you…" Arthur muttered, feeling his face heat up. "Um…what time is it?"

Alfred looked above Arthur's head, which he guessed that was where the clock was. "Looks like six in the morning," Alfred yawned. "Way too early for me. So don't think that you're gonna be leaving this hospital any time soon."

"You are my ride home?" Arthur laughed.

"What? You don't think I'm a good driver?" Alfred showed mock pain on his face.

"Well, you did get me into a car crash," Arthur laughed. "How are you getting me home without a car, anyway?"

"Talk later," Alfred yawned, going to sit back down in the chair he was in just previously. "Sleep now."

Arthur didn't fall back asleep, he was afraid of having that dream again. Who was that in the alley? Why was he running?

Most of all, why did the dream start with that wheat field?

Arthur was happy that Alfred hadn't turned the TV off, he was able to watch game shows until the doctor came in. Alfred was still out cold as the doctor asked Arthur more of the same sorts of questions. How are you feeling? Do you feel any more pain? How is your head? Shoulder?

After a while, another person came in. He was of small build, and a little shaky. His hair was the same colour as Alfred's, but it was long like Francis'. And there was a long curl coming out of the top, near his forehead. His glasses were covering his blue eyes.

He almost yelped when he saw Arthur staring at him. "Um…um…hi…" the kid muttered.

"Hello," Arthur said. "Um, who are you?"

"M-Mathew," the kid muttered again. He was so quiet, Arthur could barely hear him. The two stood in an awkward silence for a while, neither wanting to talk.

Eventually, Alfred snorted and stood up quickly. "Dude! Mattie!" he quickly ran over to Mathew and gave him a giant bear hug. Mathew braced himself, like he was used to being picked up off the ground by the peppy American.

"Hi Alfred," Mathew spoke quietly.

"So, you've, um, reintroduced yourself to Arthur?"

"Yeah," Mathew said. It almost looked like he was disappearing.

"So, this is our ride," Alfred turned to Arthur. "And I've been thinking, you've been in bed for a good couple days. Do you think you can walk still?"

"What?" Arthur protested. "Of course I can, you git!" Arthur moved out of the sheets quickly and dangled his feet off the bed to the right and stood up quickly.

His legs seemed to turn to jelly at that point, like he couldn't support himself. Immediately, he started falling forward. Before he could closer to the ground, he felt strong arms hold him up, his face going into a buff chest.

He could feel himself blush as he was held into Alfred's body. He stayed there for a second, enjoying it slightly.

"You need to be more careful, Artie," Alfred laughed as Arthur shoved off of him and back onto the bed. "And I'm pretty sure you're gonna need some pants before you leave," Alfred whispered in his ear and Arthur's face reddened even deeper. He looked down and saw he was just in a pair of boxers.

"Cock," Arthur muttered.

"You know, you're still the same Arthur," Alfred started laughing. "Just a little more clumsy."

"I-I am not clumsy," Arthur argued.

Mathew watched the two go at it and he giggled. Arthur really was the same person, even without his memories. It was amazing how Alfred brought Arthur's personality out, even after what had happened.

Those two really were meant for each other.

* * *

><p><strong>Turns out, I've liked this story so much, I'm already on chapter 5! I hope everyone else loves this story just as much!<strong>

**Sadly, though, people will just have to wait a week for the next chapter!**

**Please review so I can feel good about myself and I don't own anything, like Hetalia or...anything...really.**


	3. Chapter 3

After Arthur had fixed his pants issue and figured out how to walk again, the three were able to leave the hospital without an issue. The doctor had cleared him to just simply walk out. And, after a short embarrassment with Alfred trying to help Arthur buckle up, the three drove off to Arthur's house.

After only a short while of driving, it was obvious to Arthur that they were in London. They passed the Big Ben and Arthur could see the London Eye in the background as they continued driving. All of these sights seemed so familiar to Arthur, even though he had never seen them before.

And Arthur's house was less like a house and more like a mansion. And the thing looked like a pain in the ass to upkeep. This was really his house? Arthur's eyes were still wide with shock as he stepped out of the car.

"Welcome home, Artie," Alfred laughed upon seeing his expression.

"I live _here_?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah," Alfred stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. It just occurred to Arthur if he had even changed since he brought him to the hospital. "I-I have the keys, if you wanna go ahead inside."

"Why do you have my keys?" Arthur crossed his arms.

"I-I took them from you after the crash," Alfred stumbled through his words as he led him to the front door.

"Hey, where did Mathew go off to?" Arthur quickly looked behind him, only to see Mathew right behind him. He let out a yelp, stumbling back into Alfred's arms.

"You okay there?" Alfred chuckled as Arthur moved away from him, blushing like mad.

"Fine," Arthur mumbled as Alfred opened the door and held it open for him. The inside of the mansion was rather impressive, too. It was huge inside! Did Arthur really live alone in here?

"So…um…would you mind…if I uh-" Alfred stumbled around nervously. "Take a shower here? I kinda haven't in a couple days…You know, what with the…um…crash and all."

"Um, sure," Arthur wasn't really paying attention to what Alfred was saying. As he disappeared upstairs, Arthur set about exploring this gigantic house. He had gotten through a sitting room, a TV room, another sitting room, a dining room, and the kitchen when he heard a doorbell ring.

He ran by Mathew without even noticing him and got to the door. He stood uncomfortably at it, though. Should he answer it? The bell rang again as he looked through the peep hole. It was him again…what was his name?

Arthur opened the door and Francis immediately went to hug him tightly.

"Oh, Arthur, I'm so happy you're okay!" Francis yelled. Arthur guessed this was from when he couldn't hug him in the hospital.

"Um…thanks," Arthur said uneasily. "Can you stop hugging me now?"

"Sorry," Francis muttered and separated from Arthur, who went to close the door.

"You keep on popping up," Arthur sighed as he went to go back to the kitchen. He hadn't been able to see what he had stocked. "Were we close or something?" Arthur opened up the fridge to look inside.

Francis thought for a moment. "Um, yes," a long pause. "In fact, we were together."

"Together," Arthur stated, looking over the fridge door and at Francis. "As in…"

"As in dating," Francis grinned.

"You have got to be kidding me," Arthur rolled his eyes. "Me. With you?"

"Obviously you can't remember anything if you can't remember our time together," Francis scoffed.

Arthur closed the door to the fridge and started walking over to the cabinets. "How about you prove that we were together? I don't see any pictures around here of you."

"That's because you're not the kind of person to have pictures of their boyfriend around the house," Francis stalked him to the pantry.

"I still can't believe I would have been with someone like you," Arthur sighed, turning around to go check something else. But he didn't get very far. Francis tilted his chin up towards him and leaned in to press his lips to Arthur's. At first, Arthur was in shock. He almost tried to pull away, but something stopped him. Something inside Arthur made him kiss back.

"Hey, Artie, I heard the doorbell. Who-" Alfred still had his towel being held up to his wet hair when he stopped in the doorway at the scene.

Arthur pulled away from Francis to see Alfred's wide eyes, his glasses in his hand not holding the towel. Even though he had just kissed Francis, seeing Alfred standing in the doorway with wet hair and no glasses. He was attractive…

"Hey, Francis, can we talk for a sec?" Alfred's voice cracked, it was obvious he was trying to fight tears.

"Sure," Francis almost skipped over to Alfred across the room.

There was an odd silence as the two walked away and Arthur stayed in the kitchen. All of a sudden, a door from upstairs slammed shut.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Alfred scream at Francis. There was a muffled sound, which probably was Francis trying to make a case for himself. "I don't give a shit!" Alfred yelled again and Arthur couldn't help but run up the stairs and find the room they were in. He had to hear what Francis was saying.

"What made you fucking think…" Alfred's voice almost dropped to a murmur, but Arthur had found the door. "Why did you…"

"I'm just trying to think of what's best for Arthur," Francis protested.

"_I_ am what is best for Arthur!" Alfred whined.

"Your first date with him and _that_ happened to him?" Francis yelled. "Sounds like you're great protection."

"I am! It was just that one time! I didn't know he would be there! I'm sorry…" Alfred apologized like a little child.

"I just want to make sure he will be safe," Francis spoke. The two weren't really arguing anymore. "I think it would be better if it was me to look after him."

"But-but… I just think… Please don't take him from me…" Arthur could just feel he meaning in the words he had just spoken. "I promise I won't mess up again."

"I'm sorry, Alfred."

Arthur could hear footsteps nearing the door way and immediately backed up to the top of the stairs. He started looking around like he was lost while the two left the room.

"I say, where is the bathroom in this place?" he tried desperately to lie, but he was blushing like crazy.

"Down there," Alfred pointed in some vague direction behind him and walked past Arthur, down the stairs.

"Third door on your left," Francis sighed and Arthur wondered how he knew so much about his house. It was obvious he probably wasn't his boyfriend.

"Right," Arthur sighed, walking slowly to the bathroom even though he was stressing out big time. He quickly locked the door and he looked in the mirror.

This was his first time looking in the mirror since he had woken up. The very first thing he noticed was his huge eye brows. Damn were those things giant! And then there was his blonde hair, slightly dulled with dirt and lack of a proper shower. His eyes were green, like a forest.

He decided to use this time to take a shower. This was obviously the shower Alfred had used before, the walls were still wet. Without going to find a towel, Arthur went ahead and started it.

The room filled with mist as Arthur stepped into the shower, feeling the water get rid of all the dirt and grime. And then he started to think. The mist swirled into images, things like a little kid and flowers and chocolates. And then he remembered a restaurant. There was this man there, with gelled back brown hair and terrifying blue eyes. Just seeing that man…

Arthur's vision went black.

* * *

><p><em>"It doesn't matter that much, Alfred," Arthur sighed.<em>

_"Yes it does," Alfred was looking around the restaurant. "He's bothering you."_

_"Alfred, I appreciate you caring about me, but it doesn't matter that much."_

_"Fine, just tell me when he's really bothering you."_

_"Well, he's walking towards us," Arthur muttered._

_"What?" Alfred whispered as a man walked up to the two. He placed to hands on the side of the table and leaned towards them._

_"Hello you two," he was obviously British. "I've noticed you two talking about me."_

_"And how do you know it's about you?" Alfred snapped, he tried to assert his authority, like any normal guy would._

_"You are very obvious," the man sighed. Arthur noticed his short, black hair was gelled back roughly and his blue eyes were almost terrifying._

_"Well, you're bothering Artie," Alfred said, but the man stopped him._

_"Shut up, I'm not interested in you," he turned his head towards Arthur, the intensity in his eyes making him shiver. "You, on the other hand, are an interesting specimen."_

_"Excuse me?" Arthur demanded. "I refuse to be talked to in that manner!"_

_"Sure you do," the man chuckled, his teeth were obnoxiously white._

* * *

><p>Arthur woke up in some room he had never seen before. The walls were white and dull, there was an oak desk, table, and dresser. The bed he was on leaned against the wall furthest from two doors that probably led to a bathroom and out of the room. He was laying on top of the deep red covers of the bed, his head leaning up awkwardly on the four fluffy pillows that were resting behind him. The bed had no posts, it just kind of sat there. Arthur noticed a person sitting on the rolling chair at the desk, it was Francis.<p>

When Arthur looked down at himself, he noticed his clothes had changed. He was wearing what looked like a military suit, but it was all green, the colour of his eyes. The whole thing looked awkward on him, considering he was wearing mismatched socks.

Wait a second. He had passed out in the shower… And he was in new clothes…

"Arthur, you're awake!" Francis nearly ran over to him once he noticed Arthur's eyes were open. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"Did you dress me?" this question was a more pressing matter to Arthur as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"Um…oui," Francis rubbed the back of his head. "I think these clothes look better on you than those hospital rags."

"Right," Arthur sighed.

"So, what happened? Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Arthur lied. "I just slipped is all."

That man in Arthur's dream. He just seemed so familiar to him, like he'd seen him somewhere before. He could have sworn he had seen someone just like him at the hospital…

"I'll be fine," Arthur said as he stood up on the opposite edge of the bed as Francis. "Is-is Alfred still here?"

"Oui, so is Mathieu," it seemed Francis had just gotten his confidence back, for, right before Arthur went to open the door, he turned him around and kissed him again.

Arthur wanted to fight, get away from him, but he just couldn't. He felt like he had some sort of history with this guy. Maybe they weren't "together" like he said, but apparently they were now. And there was something about him, something so familiar…

The two walked downstairs to find Alfred and Mathew watching something on TV. It looked like a hockey match, and it was amazing to see Mathew so hyper and happy and loud. Arthur had only seen him blend in to the background, but now he was practically getting into a fistfight with Alfred over which team was better.

Arthur chose to sit down next to Alfred on the couch facing the TV.

"Hey, Artie," Alfred immediately turned his attention away from the TV, but he still had this huge, attractive smile on. His teeth were perfect, Arthur noted. "Are you okay? What happened."

"Fine. Just…slipped on something," Arthur pretended to be distracted by the hockey game.

"Slipped," Alfred obviously didn't believe him, Arthur could tell in his voice. "Right."

While the three watched the game, it was almost like Francis disappeared. Mathew became interesting to be around, yelling at the referees, even though they couldn't hear him through the TV. Alfred was getting intense, too. Standing up abruptly when his team was close to scoring, and punching in the air and yelling in victory when they actually got the puck in. And Arthur just laughed at watching the two.

They looked like brothers and looked like they bonded like brothers. Even though Mathew looked frail, Alfred wasn't afraid to hit him or pin him down when the two argued.

The hockey game ended with Mathew's team winning, which was a given, considering it was a Canadian team going against an American one.

Something came on after the game, but Arthur didn't pay it much attention. He dozed off, dreaming about two little kids running around and having fun. They looked like brothers and looked like they bonded like brothers. One looked tiny and frail, and one was obnoxious and loud. But the two looked like best friends. The obnoxious one was his, he didn't know how he knew that, he could just feel it. He had seen this kid before…in another dream, were they in a wheat field. The other kid looked familiar, as well.

"Hey, Arthur," something shook Arthur awake and he looked up to see Francis looking at him. "You've been sleeping a lot lately. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Arthur looked around to find that Mathew had left and Alfred was sleeping face first on the other couch, snoring loudly. How had that not woken Arthur up before?

"You'll get used to his snoring," Francis chuckled.

"Think I already have," Arthur sighed, letting out a grin. Alfred reminded him of a teenager, someone sleeping all hours of the day away, taking up an entire couch and kicking whenever he felt like it. His snoring, however, wasn't annoying. There was something almost attractive about it.

"I've made some food, if you want any," Francis watched as Arthur got up. "It's about dinner time."

"Is it?" Arthur couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. This guy was supposed to be France, right? French cooking was supposed to be good, right? Something deep in Arthur's gut made him think that some other kind of cooking was better. English food?

Arthur didn't make it very far towards the kitchen before Francis twirled him around and kissed him again.

Alfred stopped snoring.

But Arthur was the only one that noticed.

* * *

><p><strong>So, here is this chapter! I wrote this one rather quick, so sorry if it's not the best.<strong>

**Please review so I can feel good about myself and I don't own anything, like Hetalia or...anything...really.**


	4. Chapter 4

"So, this world meeting is in London, how handy," Alfred laughed. He was on a laptop that randomly appeared overnight and it turned out he was actually doing something productive. Arthur didn't expect that.

"World meeting? What happens in those?" Arthur asked, they were back in the TV room, he and Francis on the same couch and Alfred on the floor next to the TV, which wasn't on. Alfred was sprawled on his stomach, his head propped up by his hands as he read the screen on the computer. And Arthur was uncomfortably being hugged by Francis on the couch.

"The countries get together and talk about things our bosses want to do," Francis sighed, Arthur could feel his chest move up and down as he breathed heavily.

"Usually, it's spent fighting," Alfred chuckled, using one finger to scroll the screen down. "Until Ludwig yells at us, that is."

"And who would Ludwig be?" Arthur looked up at Francis behind him.

"Germany," Francis laughed. "A bit of a hint, the ethnicity of the name hints at the country their from."

"Just maybe," Alfred laughed, too.

Arthur could feel Francis going to stroke his hair again. He went to stop it. Again.

"Whatever," Arthur sighed, grinning. "So, where in London?"

"We usually hold it in this officey thing right next to Big Ben," Alfred closed his lap top and rolled over onto his back, putting his hands behind his head.

"Hey, that's today, right?" Francis asked.

"Crap, I think so," Alfred sat up quickly. "Shit! I need to go change!"

"Are you required to wear something?" Arthur gratefully sat up from Francis.

"Um, yeah," Alfred muttered as he went to go find his shoes. "Our current military uniforms."

"The one you're wearing will be fine," Francis noted and he, too stood up.

"So, I take it you're both leaving?" Arthur crossed his legs on the couch.

"Yeah," Alfred came back into the TV room. "I'll be back to pick you up soon. I'm already so perfect, so getting ready doesn't take long for me. Unlike Francis, who takes hours on his hair."

"I do not take hours on my hair!" Francis protested.

"It kinda looks like it," Arthur chuckled.

"Oh, shut up," Francis sighed, leaving to find his shoes.

"Yeah, well, see you in about an hour, okay?" Alfred made sure to see Arthur nod before he left. And Arthur heard two separate "good-byes" before the door closed. Arthur heard it lock. And then he was all alone in this gigantic house.

Before long, he had turned on the TV again, this time turning it on to football*. He could honestly say he didn't know any of the teams, even though he could feel himself rooting for a certain team. They were doing well.

Keeping the TV on, he went to the kitchen, put some water into a kettle, and set it to boil. He searched through the pantry for some tea and found something he thought would be good. As he rummaged through the kitchen, he felt like someone was staring at him. When he glanced out the windows, though, he didn't see anything except for his backyard. It looked like there was a well-kept garden out back, near the patio. Did he seriously garden?

Once his tea was ready, Arthur paced back to the TV. His team was winning, by about 5 points. After just one sip of his tea, Arthur started to feel tired. But he just couldn't fall asleep. He couldn't help but feel on edge, like someone was seriously watching him. Every move he made. After a while, though, he was able to doze off.

* * *

><p><em>As quickly as possible, England darted out of the restaurant and took a quick left once he entered the cold air. He was running so fast, he didn't notice two people right in front of him. He fell right on top of them.<em>

_"Mon dieu, Arthur!" Arthur heard the familiar voice of Francis underneath him._

_"S-sorry," Arthur stuttered as he pushed himself up to a standing position and then held out a hand to help Mathew, who was with Francis. He looked around nervously behind him. "What are you doing here?"_

_"Alfred told me he was taking you on a date," Mathew spoke quietly._

_"We wanted to make sure everything turned out alright with you two," Francis looked at Arthur skeptically. "Obviously it isn't?"_

_"Um, that's-that's not it," Arthur looked back again, to see Alfred rushing towards him._

_"Shit, Arthur!" Alfred panted. "You okay?"_

_"What happened? Where is he?" Arthur turned away from Francis and Mathew._

_"I dunno! I punched him in the face and ran after you. We need to go!" Alfred started to run, but Arthur stopped him._

_"You don't understand! He knows!"_

_"Knows what?" Francis snapped._

_"He called me England," Arthur whispered and looked behind him, only to see the man step out of the restaurant. "Bugger!"_

* * *

><p>"I'm awake!" Arthur sat up with a start to see Alfred leaning against the TV.<p>

"Obviously," Alfred grinned. "You looked like you were having a nightmare. Everything alright?"

"Yes," Arthur was getting tired of people asking him if he was okay. He stood up quickly, fixing his uniform to try to get out the wrinkles. He picked up the cup holding his mostly untouched tea and brought it over to the kitchen. "Time to go, I suppose?"

"Nah, we have a little time," Alfred followed him into the kitchen. "So, you been asleep this whole time?"

"Well, I tried to stay awake," Arthur rolled his eyes as he cleaned out the cup in the sink. Someone was still watching him. "But this damn tea!"

"On the bright side," Alfred leaned against the doorway, "you're still a clean freak, like you were before."

"Am not a clean freak," Arthur protested, looking behind his shoulder for a second.

"You always hand wash your dishes and then put them in the dishwasher," Alfred stated. "And then if they've been in the dishwasher for too long, you hand wash them again."

"That doesn't prove anything," Arthur lied as he opened up the dishwasher and carefully set the cup in the top rack. "And how do you know so much about me?"

"I've known you for a while is all," Alfred mumbled. "Wanna leave now?"

"Sure," Arthur said as he closed the dishwasher. "Should I trust you driving?"

"Yes, you can trust me driving," Alfred laughed as he started to push Arthur towards the door.

"So," Arthur watched Alfred as he locked a door. He chose to ignore the fact that he had a key to his house, "at a normal meeting, I would talk about what my boss wants. I can't remember what my boss wants."

"Don't worry, he'll call you," Alfred said. "All our bosses do, because they know when the meetings are, too."

"So, I have the phone number to the Prime Minister?" Arthur felt around his pockets and found a phone.

"Hey, hey, hey," Alfred quickly took a hold of his phone. "Hold on a sec before you look at that." Alfred started messing with the buttons really quick and Arthur could have sworn he was changing the background picture.

"What are you doing?" Arthur demanded.

"Doing your…password," Alfred nodded like he was proud of himself with his answer and he handed the phone back to Arthur. The background was Big Ben. Arthur couldn't help but browse through the pictures stored in the phone's memory as Alfred walked in front of him, walking to some fancy sports car. The first picture that popped up, the first thing he noticed was himself laughing and looking like he had never been happier in his life.

But, before he could see any more of the picture, his phone started vibrating and a thing that looked like a pop-up ad came up with a name: David Cameron, and two options, ignore and answer.

"What do I do?" Arthur freaked out and almost dropped his phone.

"You answer it," Alfred laughed. "Duh."

"Um," he pressed the answer button. "Hello?"

Arthur listened to the Prime Minister talk as he went over to Alfred's car. This was kinda weird. He was actually talking on the phone with the Prime Minister. And the Prime Minister was even calling him by the first name. Arthur was just so confounded that he could only respond with "yes, sir" and "okay."

Alfred decided to wait until Arthur had hung up before he started the car and backed out of the driveway.

"That sounded _so _interesting from this side of the conversation," Alfred laughed with heavy sarcasm.

"Shut up," Arthur rolled his eyes. "Is it bad I had no idea about most of what he was talking about?"

"I never know what my boss is talking about," Alfred smiled his perfect smile again. "So, I think you'll be fine. We never really get much work done at world meetings, anyway."

"Then, what's the point of them?"

"Well, I'll rephrase that," Alfred laughed. "I never get much work done. You usually take notes and stuff, like some other people. Like Japan and Mattie."

"Should I have brought paper and pencils?" Arthur asked.

"Nah," Alfred sighed. "They usually give that stuff to you."

"Right," Arthur sighed and the rest of the ride was spent with the two happily bickering.

Eventually, the two arrived at an office building only a short while from Big Ben.

"So, Artie," Alfred said as they walked into the building. "I'm gonna warn you ahead of time. Most of the countries are…eccentric. There's a reason we don't get along usually and we only get together for meetings once in a long time."

"Okay?" at first, Arthur thought Alfred was over exaggerating. Until he walked into the door. The room was rather large, it had a long table and a couple people were sitting down already. There was a bouncing, hyper brunette running around the room, laughing and screaming. It seemed like he was running away from a blonde, who was yelling in a deep voice after him. And then there was this albino almost attacking this proper looking gentleman. And then there was a woman with long, brown hair, who was stalking Francis around with a frying pan. There was also this man sitting down with an evil aura that Arthur could practically feel from the other side of the room.

"Warned you," Alfred placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

The first brunette that was running away from the blonde stopped running around after he saw Arthur and went to go talk to the two.

"Ciao, England!" his voice was so loud. It was so weird for Arthur being called by the name of a country.

"Um…hello," Arthur spoke.

"Francis told me about what happened. I'm Italy!" the man was rather peppy, even as the blonde that was chasing him down caught up to him. This man looked terrifying. He was very muscular, huge in build, and tall. He had blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Italy!" the man yelled in a German accent. This was obviously Germany. "Stop retreating!"

Italy squeaked when Germany yelled. "Ludwig," he whined. "England's here."

"guten Tag," Germany sighed, only slightly paying attention to Arthur before turning back to Italy and scolding him about something Arthur didn't pay attention to.

There was such a large commotion going on, so many countries talking at once, it was hard to understand it all. Several people introduced themselves to him; Japan, Spain(Antonio, as he introduced himself), and Prussia, who introduced himself as awesome in several ways. And then America introduced him to Russia as the "creepy ass guy who you should never talk to."

After a while, the meeting started. They were all controlled by Germany, who yelled extremely loud to get everyone's attention. And the meeting went through with the countries talking about random things their bosses wanted to talk about. It occurred to Arthur that their bosses were just using them to talk about things when they were lazy. The countries would talk a lot outside of meetings, correct? So they were being used as ways to communicate without their bosses having to go too far. Great.

Alfred's boss didn't have much he wanted him to say, probably because of the fact he was focusing on trying to get re-elected and focusing more on that or something. Arthur was supposed to be taking notes, right? There wasn't really much to take notes on. Even as Arthur shakily did what his boss told him to do and made a fool of himself in front of the entire world, literally, he couldn't find any reason to take notes.

He found himself daydreaming a lot, for some reason. Things like that restaurant and the streets he had seen in that one dream where he was running away from someone. But, most of all, he daydreamed about that man. Dark brown hair, gelled back into spikes, and those electric blue eyes looking right into him… He could have sworn he had seen that face a lot. Somewhere.

Like a waiter here, serving on them for some reason. He looked a lot like him, but he was barely around. The waiter would just quickly come in and out of the room. He could have sworn he had seen him at the hospital, too. When he was leaving, there was someone in the waiting room that looked just like him…

The waiter came back in, he was staring intently at Arthur, who was making sure he made no show of looking at him, too. This was definitely the man from his dream… What was he doing here? Watching him?

Alfred elbowed him. "Arthur, you okay?"

"Fine," Arthur was still distracted by that man. "Just a bit distracted."

* * *

><p><strong>Ta-da! I'm going to get into some action in the next couple chapters, so this story won't be quite so long and boring.<strong>

**As for the star after "football," he's watching British football. AKA soccer**

**Please review so I can feel good about myself ****and I don't own anyth****ing, like Hetalia or...anything...really.**


	5. Chapter 5

Near the end of the meeting, Arthur started getting a headache. Maybe it was something involving seeing all these people that he supposedly knew around him, or maybe it was seeing that man, but he started getting scattered memories. Little things like this magnificent ship that he knew was his and people dressed in different outfits. Every time he looked at Spain, he saw him in some extravagant red outfit, wielding an axe. Whenever he looked at Germany, he imagined him in a uniform with a swastika on an armband on his side.

So many jumbled thoughts and images…Arthur's headache only got worse and worse.

When the meeting ended, Arthur followed Alfred and Francis outside. They were fighting over him or something, but Arthur wasn't listening. He just leaned against the wall and sighed.

"On the way over here, we talked about going to lunch together," Alfred protested. This statement was, of course, a huge lie. Arthur couldn't remember talking about that at all. But he didn't trust his thought process at this point. So many random memories… So many queen's and king's names to remember…

"I don't trust you two alone for very long," Francis crossed his arms. The pose reminded Arthur of back when they were kids…Something about Arthur's hair… "Look what happened last time."

"Fact of the matter is…" Alfred grinned. "You _were_ there. And what did you do? Nothing!"

Arthur started zoning out. His head hurt. He looked down at himself and he almost swore he was wearing a red coat. He looked back up and, for a second, Alfred was in a blue coat. But, Arthur eventually went back to his green and Alfred back to his bomber. He almost fell asleep, he just wanted to close his eyes. Maybe his headache would go away.

Arthur stopped them mid-argument.

"Excuse me!" Arthur winced at his own loud voice. "Rather than arguing about me, how about you let me decide?" Arthur grabbed onto Alfred's wrist and started dragging him towards where he remembered his car was. "Thank you," Arthur sighed.

"Wait, hold on," Francis spoke behind them and Arthur stopped.

He didn't really try to fight it when Francis twirled him around twice, making him extremely dizzy, and leaned down and kissed him good-bye. Arthur didn't kiss back. He was really beginning to grow some kind of hatred for Francis. Was it all these memories? They were little, and even back then they didn't get along well. He remembered something like Arthur trying to be better than him...

He held his head and leaned against the door when he got into Alfred's car. Alfred didn't notice, though. He turned up the radio to some popular American song and played it loud. This didn't help the pounding in Arthur's head at all.

Alfred was singing along, his voice cracking whenever the singer's voice got too high. It almost made Arthur laugh, watching Alfred make a fool of himself.

He didn't get very far before another pang went through Arthur's head. Something about toy soldiers. He worked hard to make them for Alfred when he was a little kid…

The radio suddenly turned down at a red light.

"Hey, Arthur, are you-"

"Okay?" Arthur finished Alfred's sentence for him. "I'm fine," his voice was quiet, any louder and he would wince in pain, giving away his lie.

"You look like you're in pain, dude," Alfred kept looking at him.

"Just a small headache," Arthur said with a wave of his hand.

There was a loud honk behind them, making Arthur tightly close his eyes. He looked up slightly to see that the light was green and Alfred started moving. That honk was so loud!

"Shit!" Alfred cursed and slid down his window. He slipped his left hand out of his window (he was driving an American car through England)and Arthur could only guess that he was flipping the guy off.

"You deserved that honk, Alfred," Arthur sighed and looked out the window slightly to find that it had started raining. "No need to flip him off."

"Well, he was a jerk," Alfred sighed. "And he practically made you jump five feet in the air."

"I'm fine," Arthur was really getting tired of saying that. There was more pain in his head as he remembered something that looked like a tuxedo. In this memory, he was giving it to Alfred.

Alfred played his music quietly and the two stayed in silence the rest of the way to some food place. It looked like some regular fast food place.

"Why are we here?" Arthur sighed as he got out of the car.

"We used to come here a lot," Alfred smiled over the roof of the car.

"Did we?" Arthur chuckled, but held his head slightly.

"Come on, let's go inside," Alfred nodded his head in the direction of the door. When the two got to it, Alfred held it open for Arthur to step through. It would have been cute, despite the fact that they were in military clothes, it was McDonalds, and Arthur was about to pass out from the pain in his head.

They were in line for food for only about a minute before Alfred started freaking out.

"Hey, I have to go to the bathroom, what about you?" there was a certain panic in his voice and he started hopping around.

"What? No," Arthur couldn't get much protest out before Alfred grabbed onto his arm and jerked him out of the line and into the bathroom. Arthur saw someone right before they entered the restroom. Gelled back brown hair and penetrating blue eyes staring right at him. That man kept on popping up!

"Alfred, what the hell are you doing?" Arthur protested.

"Be quiet," Alfred demanded and backed him up into a stall. "You're in a kid's place, you know. Watch your language."

"I can watch whatever I want to watch," Arthur reminded himself of his brother, back at the hospital. Brothers… Another pang in his head and he almost fell over, but Alfred caught him.

"Stay here," Alfred said after helping him stand up. He backed up out of the stall. "Please."

Alfred closed the door, leaving Arthur to sit there. He decided to lock the door in hopes that nobody would come in there. He sat down on top of the toilet, he couldn't stand.

The pain in his head only got worse. Dear God, his head hurt!

He almost fainted, but a knock at his stall door woke him up. He opened it up, knowing Alfred would be there.

"Hey!" he was so peppy, almost like he forgot he shoved Arthur into a stall in McDonalds.

"Hi," Arthur said breathlessly. He wasn't going to show that his head hurt to Alfred. "So, are you going to let me eat now?"

"Sure," Alfred chuckled and led Arthur out of the restroom.

Arthur didn't pay attention to what he ordered, all of it was basically the same, anyway. He thought his order had something to do with fish… And then Alfred bought 6 hamburgers and 3 sodas.

"You do know that it's free refills, correct?" Arthur laughed at Alfred, trying desperately to ignore the panging in his head.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help the economy," Alfred rubbed the back of his head. He obviously didn't recognize his mistake until Arthur pointed it out to him. "I have plenty of money! But the people that work here don't!"

He was so happy, Arthur noted. No one was ever this happy in reality, were they?

They happily ate together. Alfred was stuffing his face and Arthur was trying really hard not to hold his head in pain. He kept on getting flashes of memories throughout the day and it was just about to drive him nuts! How he had been able to handle all of this in the past, Arthur did not know. All of this information was about to blow up his head.

But he smiled and nodded with Alfred to make sure that he was happy. There was something in his mind that made him want to make Alfred happy. And he knew Alfred wanted him to be happy.

It was almost bliss. Almost a good point in these past couple depressing days of lost memories.

Alfred finished his food quickly, almost impossibly quick. But he waited patiently for Arthur to finish his food. He waited and talked and laughed and had fun. Arthur's headache was still getting worse as he stood up to throw away his garbage.

Alfred jumped in front of Arthur as he turned towards the door. He motioned with his arms towards the door and spoke, "Shall we go, then?"

Arthur laughed and nodded. When the two walked out of the McDonalds, it was pouring rain. Immediately, Arthur's hair went damp over his forehead and he started getting cold as his clothes got drenched. He started to shiver, but he felt something heavy and warm drape over his shoulders. It was so oddly…fuzzy on the inside. He looked down and it was a familiar looking brown bomber jacket.

"You looked cold," Alfred chuckled as he walked in front of Arthur, his jacket was gone, leaving just a tight, white T-shirt to cover his obviously muscular chest. It was getting wet quickly, though, letting a lot of colour through.

"Um…" Arthur could feel his face heat up seeing Alfred like this. "Thanks, but you don't have to-" Alfred held up his hand to stop him.

"I was the one that dragged you along here, so I figured I should help a little," Alfred grinned. "You always hated coming to places like this."

"It's no problem," Arthur chuckled. "You saved me from Francis."

"He seems to think you like it," Alfred sighed as the two started walking towards his car.

"I don't," Arthur rolled his eyes, not like Alfred could see. His jacket was so warm…Arthur gripped the edges and brought them together in front of him to enclose the heat.

Alfred apparently decided it was best to keep quiet for the rest of the car ride to Arthur's house.

Alfred's silence was nice for Arthur, considering the headache was still pounding against his skull. Arthur was starting to remember things that felt like ages ago. Like from when he was a child, he remembered a woman whom he hoped was his mother. And three people he figured were his brothers. He recognized one from the hospital, the angry, red-headed Scot.

After what felt like forever, the car managed to slowly pull up to Arthur's mansion. He was not looking forward to going back out into the rain. He stepped out of the car and slipped his arms through the sleeves of Alfred's jacket as the wind picked up, causing most of his hair to fly in front of his face.

Alfred waited for him just a few feet away from the front door.

"I think I'll let you have peace alone for a while," Alfred rubbed the back of his head. "I heard Francis talking about visiting you later. You could use as much rest as possible before he does."

"Thank you," Arthur sighed and nodded to Alfred as he stepped past him. Something stopped him, though, when Arthur tried reaching for the door handle. He turned around to see Alfred walking back over to the car. "Alfred."

Alfred stopped and turned back around. He gave his full attention to Arthur, which made him feel good inside, like someone actually cared about him. Arthur wanted to say something. Something about thanking him for a nice day, thanking him for saving him from Francis. But he felt something in his gut that made him move quickly towards Alfred.

He had to go onto the tip of his toes to reach, but he placed his lips onto Alfred's. He kissed him. And it was nothing like kissing Francis. This was actually a pleasant experience. And the fact that it was in the pouring rain made it so cliché that it was romantic.

The kiss lasted longer than Arthur thought it would, Alfred helping him keep it like that. But when the two finally, separated, Arthur finally gained the courage to speak.

"Th-thank you," Arthur muttered as he retreated back to his front door. "You're a better kisser than Francis, by the way," he yelled out as a final thought.

"Really?" Alfred asked, the door to his car open and one leg already inside.

"Yes, his lips are chapped," Arthur chuckled slightly. The kiss had done a little to lighten his headache. But, now that it was over, he found that the kiss was making it worse. Making memories fly back even quicker.

The two left each other's presence without another word. After Arthur closed the door, he leaned against it and held his head. He almost slid to the floor. None of these memories made any sense. They were all jumbled and they weren't getting Arthur anywhere. The more the memories came in, the more Arthur's head hurt. They were shoving themselves into his brain in no particular order. Making sense of them was almost impossible.

Ready to find a bed to sleep on, Arthur dug into his pocket for his phone he had been given, but never used. He stumbled his way into the TV room like he was having a hangover and placed the phone on the table. He almost collapsed on the couch when he could have sworn he heard something shuffle behind him.

Arthur quickly turned around, hoping to find nothing. But he found a man. But it wasn't just any man. It was the man that had been following him, in his thoughts and in real life. It was the man with electric blue eyes and gelled back brown hair.

"It's about time he finally left you alone," the man chuckled and stepped towards Arthur.

"Who the hell are you?" Arthur spoke. It was meant to come out as more of the threat, but his headache made it come out as more of a complaint.

"Like you're ever gonna know that," the man obviously thought Arthur was funny, the way he kept on mindlessly laughing. Arthur found it extremely obnoxious.

In just a few fluid motions, the man was behind Arthur. And before he had a chance to react, Arthur couldn't feel or see anything. He had blacked out.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about the cliff-hanger! I really don't like to do that...but the next bit would take too long for this chapter...<strong>

**So, now he's finally getting his memories back. But there's a lot of them and they're all mixed up. Just imagine about 1,000 years of memories piled into your head... Major migrane...**

**Oh, yeah, little tid-bit here...If you all liked this story, I have two more up that have America and England, but it's not USUK. They are "Witch!" and "Big Brother?" So, please check those out if you want.**

**Please review so I can feel good about myself ****and I don't own anyth****ing, like Hetalia or...anything...really.**


	6. Chapter 6

_"Thank you for finally going on a date with me," Alfred's bright blue eyes still had a sense of begging from the several weeks of him asking Arthur out._

_"We're already boyfriends, Alfred," Arthur sighed, but still kept a smile on his face. Alfred was just so cute sometimes. "I don't see the point in going on dates."_

_"The term is dating," Alfred corrected him. "And in order to be dating, we need to go out on dates."_

_"Whatever," Arthur chuckled as they walked into the restaurant Alfred had booked for them._

_"Come on," Alfred walked quickly in front of Arthur, and gave him a quick peck. "Loosen up. Please?" He gave Arthur his signature puppy dog face. He looked like such a child in his suit, it was almost cute._

_Arthur laughed at the thought. "Don't worry, I'll be fine, love," Arthur had gotten dressed up in a suit, too and he wasn't just going to not have fun after he had tried so hard._

_"Since when do you call me 'love?'" Alfred teased._

_The two joked and taunted while they were seated at their table and practically ignored the first couple waiters that tried to help them._

_"Say, I have a question," Arthur said as they got their food. "When is it that you will notice that man over there staring at us?"_

_"Hm? There's someone staring at us?" Alfred looked around all too obviously._

_"He has been for quite a while," Arthur took a sip of his water. "I think he was here before we sat down."_

_"Is he bugging you?" Alfred asked. "Because I can tell him to cut it out!"_

_"No, it's okay," Arthur turned to poke at his food with his fork. He wasn't even quite sure what it was. He just glanced at the first thing he could see on the menu and picked that._

_"You said he's been staring at us? I wonder why…" Alfred sighed. "Where is he, anyway?"_

_"It doesn't matter that much, Alfred," Arthur sighed._

_"Yes it does," Alfred kept looking around the restaurant. "He's bothering you."_

_"Alfred, I appreciate you caring about me, but it doesn't matter that much."_

_"Fine, just tell me when he's really bothering you."_

_"Well, he's walking towards us," Arthur muttered. How he could see that without looking up from his food, Alfred didn't know._

_"What?" Alfred whispered as a man walked up to the two. He placed two hands on the side of the table and leaned towards them._

_"Hello you two," he was obviously British. "I've noticed you two talking about me."_

_"And how do you know it's about you?" Alfred snapped, he tried to assert his authority, like any normal guy would._

_"You are very obvious," the man sighed. Arthur noticed his short, black hair was gelled back roughly and his blue eyes were almost terrifying. This was definitely the man who had been following him for the past couple weeks._

_"Well, you're bothering Artie," Alfred said, but the man stopped him._

_"Shut up, I'm not interested in you," he turned his head towards Arthur, the intensity in his eyes making him shiver. "You, on the other hand, are an interesting specimen."_

_"Excuse me?" Arthur demanded. "I refuse to be talked to in that manner!"_

_"Sure you do," the man chuckled, his teeth were obnoxiously white. He went over to Arthur and forcefully pulled him up to a standing position by his arms. "Now you are going to come with me." And then, in a way that only Arthur could hear it, the man whispered, "England."_

_"Says you!" Alfred stood up quickly. But, right after, Arthur felt something circular hit his side, Alfred's eyes widened and looked like he was about to sit back down._

_"Sit down and stay," the man ordered. "Obnoxious American…"_

_"Hey, as-as much as I would like to agree with you," Arthur looked down quickly to see what was pointed at him, ending up finding a pistol, "I…uh…I must say I need to…step out for a moment."_

_As quickly as possible, England darted out of the restaurant and took a quick left once he entered the cold air. He was running so fast, he didn't notice two people right in front of him. He fell right on top of them._

_"Mon dieu, Arthur!" Arthur heard the familiar voice of Francis underneath him._

_"S-sorry," Arthur stuttered as he pushed himself up to a standing position and then held out a hand to help Mathew, who was with Francis. He looked around nervously behind him. "What are you doing here?"_

_"Alfred told me he was taking you on a date," Mathew spoke quietly._

_"We wanted to make sure everything turned out alright with you two," Francis looked at Arthur skeptically. "Obviously it isn't?"_

_"Um, that's-that's not it," Arthur looked back again, to see Alfred rushing towards him._

_"Shit, Arthur!" Alfred panted. "You okay?"_

_"What happened? Where is he?" Arthur turned away from Francis and Mathew._

_"I dunno! I punched him in the face and ran after you. We need to go!" Alfred started to run, but Arthur stopped him._

_"You don't understand! He knows!"_

_"Knows what?" Francis snapped. He wanted to be a part of this, too._

_"He called me England," Arthur whispered and looked behind him, only to see the man step out of the restaurant. "Bugger!"_

_Arthur quickly grabbed onto Francis' wrist and sprinted in the opposite direction of the man. Alfred soon followed after him, dragging Mathew along. BANG! A gunshot rocketed past them. Several people on the street screamed, mainly women, but the four didn't stop._

_They ran deep into the city of London, eventually getting deep enough into a crowd of people to think he probably wouldn't be able to find them._

_"Who was that?" Mathew panted. He had never had to run so far in his life._

_"I don't know!" Arthur looked around frantically for the man. "I can't believe he shot at us!"_

_"Why are you running away from that dick?" Alfred demanded. "Show him who's boss!"_

_"He called you England?" Francis asked. He had been thinking about it the whole time they were running._

_"That's why I'm running away," Arthur snapped. "If he knows what I am and he's willing to shoot me, something's wrong here."_

_"And he called me a stupid American…"Alfred whined._

_"I agree with him there, Alfred," Arthur chuckled slightly._

_"Wait, if he knows you're England," Mathew muttered, "what else does he know?"_

_"I-I haven't a clue," Arthur muttered. BANG! Another gun shot sounded, clearing the area by having everyone run in opposite directions. And then Alfred saw the man coming towards them._

_"Arthur, run!"_

_It was dark, Arthur could barely tell where he was going. His heart was pounding as he ran away, but he could hear the tell-tale sign of someone's footsteps following him close behind. There was a gun shot just above his head._

_"Bugger!" Arthur shouted in surprise and rounded a corner into an alley way. He didn't expect it to be a dead end and he slammed into the brick wall, jamming his head into it._

_He turned around quickly, the footsteps that were behind him slowed to a walk and he heard a deep chuckle._

_"You're mine now."_

_In a split decision, Arthur tried to run for it, almost making it past the man, but he gripped onto his right arm, pulling it back harshly and Arthur heard a pop and pain exploded in his shoulder._

_"Shit!" Arthur dropped to the ground, the man letting go of his arm. He felt the knees of his pants tear and the skin getting cut._

_"Hey!" Alfred's voice rang through the alley and Arthur heard something like a fist connecting with skin. "Don't mess with him!"_

_"And you would prefer I mess with you?" the man's voice stayed calm. Arthur looked up and saw crimson dribbling just beneath the man's nose. The two quickly got into a fist fight as Arthur backed out of the alley way. He scrambled to his feet and started running in some other direction._

_Francis stopped him, holding onto his arm, thankfully not the hurt one. "Where did Alfred go?" he asked._

_"I don't know," Arthur gasped for air, holding onto his shoulder in pain. "I wasn't quite paying attention to what went on. I-I think he got into a fight with…with…" Arthur struggled to think up a name for the man. "Him?" that's what he decided to go with._

_"Well, you're gonna have to run…now!" Mathew yelled, which for him was more like a regular voice._

_"Going!" Arthur started to keep on running._

_"Shit! Arthur! Don't let him get to you!" Arthur could hear Alfred yelling at him before he got slammed to the ground by something heavy. His head was slammed once again into stone and he felt glass shards that were probably from a smashed bottle go into his skin all over him._

_Quickly, he was pulled back up, his dislocated arm pulled behind his back. And he felt that familiar circular thing touching the small of his back, right behind his stomach._

_"Just so that you won't run away again," the man whispered before…BANG! For just a short while, Arthur screamed at the pain in his stomach. But, after a while, he couldn't feel anything, not even his head hitting the ground, which was the last thing he saw before his world went black._

* * *

><p>Arthur woke up dazed and confused. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, all he knew was that his headache had gotten far worse. It was almost like someone had hit him on the head. All of the memories stuffed inside of him made Arthur almost incoherent.<p>

He tried to move, but something was blocking him and it took him forever to figure out it was at his wrists. He was sitting upright in some sort of chair, he didn't really care much. It was mostly black around him, only a few lights told him that he was in some sort of warehouse. There were a lot of windows, but he didn't care to look out of them and figure out his surroundings.

Dear God! His head hurt! He almost curled into himself, if whatever was binding his wrists was holding him back.

"You know, I'm still surprised you're alive," the voice of that man sounded, only causing another pang in Arthur's head. "What's the matter?" the man spoke after a while of quiet. "Too tired to talk to me?"

"Who are you?" the words came out in a slur. Arthur was barely paying attention to the matter at hand. The matter in his head a much more pressing matter.

"I figured it would be easy to kidnap a nation, but I didn't think it would be _this _easy," he sounded as if he was gloating, Arthur couldn't make out the words all that well. "Believe me, I had to do my research on which nation to try to abduct. I could have chosen Italy, but he was protected by Germany. I couldn't have chosen any strong countries, like Russia. I would get my ass kicked. And picking a nation that's already ignored like Canada would just be pointless. I would never choose to kidnap France, and America is just obnoxious."

"Who are you?" Arthur repeated himself.

"And then I saw you, not really protected by anyone. A great and powerful nation. You were the perfect target," the man sighed and waited a while. Arthur chose to look at the ground, that sight soothing him better than the rest of the warehouse. The man grabbed Arthur's chin forcefully and made him look into his blue eyes. "I am Marcus Tyler, soon to be the richest person in the world after I put you're pretty little head up for ransom. I'm positive the queen would spend a lot of money to get her precious country back."

"Right," Arthur mindlessly agreed. He didn't pay much attention to the name, or anything he just said. Certain things were swarming together in his head, forming little clumps of random memories. The order was mixed up, though.

"You're not as much fun as I had hoped, England," Marcus sighed and he stepped away from Arthur. It appeared as if he was sitting down in his own chair. "How about you try to be at least a little entertaining?"

"Sorry," Arthur didn't know why he was apologizing. He winced as he felt a pang in a specific area of his head and he tried to curl into himself again.

"You had more spunk the other night," the man sighed and Arthur could feel him looming over him. "You're so boring and pathetic now."

All of a sudden, Arthur felt something hard hit him square in the jaw. Pain exploded in the area, and the chair almost fell over with him, but the man kept it in place. Arthur could just feel a bruise starting to form.

"How about you fight back?" Marcus snapped.

"Bit preoccupied," Arthur could barely get the words out. He was back to looking at the ground and he saw that this man was wearing shiny dress shoes. This was the first time Arthur paid attention to what he was wearing. It looked like a business suit, why was he so well dressed?

"Get over yourself," Marcus scoffed. "You're not that great."

Arthur wanted to say something, retort, but he couldn't. Rather he just tried once more to curl into himself from the pain in his head

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, here's this...More than half of it is a flashback of the day Arthur and Alfred had their "car accident" in the form of a dream. And we finally get to know Arthur's stalker, who is an OC, Marcus. <strong>

**Hope everyone enjoyed it!**

**Please review so I can feel good about myself ****and I don't own anyth****ing, like Hetalia or...anything...really.**


	7. Chapter 7

"So, you're not going to do anything?" Marcus asked and Arthur could feel his frightening eyes glaring into the top of his head. He refused to look up from the ground.

It was all Arthur could do to shake his head.

Marcus gripped the roots of Arthur's hair and forced him to look up at him. Arthur winced, not only at the pain in his head, but at having so much light come into his vision so quickly. Marcus had his face close to Arthur's.

"You're supposed to be a great nation," he growled. "And here you are, sitting here, hand-cuffed to a chair. And you are doing nothing about it." Arthur felt a short spurt of relief as the man shoved his head to the side, releasing his grasp. "You're pathetic."

"Sorry," Arthur muttered under his breath.

"This worked last time I tried to make things interesting," Marcus sighed and Arthur heard something like shifting metal.

BANG!

A gun shot thundered in the warehouse and Arthur jumped. His head shot upward to see Marcus holding a pistol. It was still aimed just above Arthur's head.

"What the hell?" Arthur looked up and snapped at the man.

"Guns are the only thing that make you exciting?" Marcus laughed and then raised the hand holding the gun on it's hilt. Before Arthur could react, the cold metal smacked him across the face. It left his ears ringing so he could barely hear the hearty laugh given off by Marcus as he walked away.

That contact, for some odd, unexplainable reason, made everything click. Just the impact of something finally hitting him, made all the memories slide back into their rightful place in his mind.

All those times as a little kid he would play pranks on his brothers, when he ran away to be a pirate, the day he found America, the day he lost America. It all finally made sense to him. It was all real. And so was the day he finally said yes to America's flowers and chocolates and finally agreed to be his boyfriend. He remembered all those fights he had with Francis, and Spain. And the World Wars, all of the times he fought and battled until he was beaten and battered.

Everything finally made sense.

And now his headache was gone.

"Sorry," Arthur spoke again, this time his voice was much more sure of itself. He looked over at Marcus, his eyes showing the same determination as his. "I was going through a bit of a headache. But I'm all better now."

"Yeah?" the man raised an eyebrow. "So it took me to hit you with my gun to finally grow a backbone?"

"Marcus Tyler, correct?" Arthur crossed one of his legs over the other and leaned back into the chair. "I have a question for you. What makes you think I am not protected?"

"Come again?" Marcus seemed to be caught off guard with how relaxed Arthur was. Arthur was growing to be extremely thankful for his headache going away.

"Because I can guarantee you," Arthur continued on as if Marcus hadn't said anything, "that there are two people on their way here right now. One will be a very pissed off American, who I know is ready to kick your ass. And the other will be a Frenchman, not really good at kicking ass, but I know he's a hell of a lot stronger than you are."

Quickly, Arthur stood up, moving the now unlocked handcuffs that were holding him back off to the side and throwing them onto the floor. Whatever confidence Marcus had, it just went out the window.

"What the-" Marcus tried to start, but Arthur cut him off.

"And another thing I will have you know," Arthur walked towards Marcus slowly.

He tried to pull out his gun, point it at Arthur. "I shot you once. I don't give a shit if I have to again. You'll always come right back," his voice was shaky, like he was slightly unsure of himself. Arthur sighed, mad at the intrusion. He gripped the gun, catching Marcus off guard and yanking it out of his hand. Before Marcus could say anything, Arthur had the thing pointed at his skull.

"You are dealing with bloody pirate, mate," Arthur continued. He was tempted to make this idiot open his mouth so he could stick the barrel inside that. Make sure he wouldn't try anything again. "Anything you can throw at me, I can throw right on back, harder and faster. You seem to forget, I am the country of England. This means I am far stronger than any human on Earth, and that includes you."

"I will have you know, you are not intimidating," Marcus tired hard to regain control of the situation. But he had no chance of that now.

"Then why do I have you pinned up against a wall?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. Marcus looked up and behind him and it was obvious he was aware of his situation. He started to sweat and pant.

"Another thing," Arthur sighed. "If you wanted to hold me ransom, you could have at least stowed me in a more adequate place. If you were to show this to the Queen, she wouldn't give you any money. Even she knows I can get out of this situation. Which just proves that you are far more of an idiot than I thought you were."

"I will have you know, I am not stupid," Marcus stuttered out.

"Then why did you shoot me? Why did you kidnap a nation in hopes of earning some easy money?" Arthur was the one chuckling this time. "Sounds to me that you are a complete and total moron."

Arthur waited for a while. It was obvious that the poor man was shaking. Arthur heard the sound of police sirens in the background.

"Well they found us a lot faster than I expected," Arthur looked away from him for a moment, daydreaming off to some window. He directed his attention back to Marcus. "You left a note, didn't you?"

Marcus nodded, his head hitting the barrel of the gun once or twice. Arthur stepped away, going to a table to sit on. He wasn't in the mood to stand.

"So, tell me," Arthur sighed. Marcus had slid to the floor and looked like he was quivering._ A gun to the face was a lot more terrifying when you're on the receiving end _Arthur couldn't help but think as he knelt down to be face to face with Marcus. "While you were stalking me, how did it occur to you I am not protected?"

"B-because the only person I saw that stuck around w-was that s-stupid American. D-didn't see him as a-a threat," he stuttered. The sirens got closer and he seemed to get more on edge as it got louder.

"Didn't see him as a threat?" Arthur repeated. He nearly stood up, but the man was so scared already. "He's the bloody United States of America! He's a superpower and a damn good fighter! And you dare say he's not a threat?" Arthur wanted to be seething at the thought someone could think so little of America. But just talking about America made him happy. Just the thought of finally remembering him after so long…it made Arthur grin.

"W-what's so funny?" Marcus interjected in Arthur's happy thoughts.

"Tell me," Arthur stood up, leaving the gun set on the table and walking over to the man cowering on the floor. He knelt down to his level and looked him straight in the eyes. "This is your first time doing something like this, correct?"

"Um…y-yeah…"

"So, I'm pretty sure the police terrify you?" it just occurred to Arthur that this man didn't look anything over 25. He was just a kid. A kid with a stupid idea.

Marcus nodded.

"I would say you have no need to be worried," Arthur sighed, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of him. "But you do. For one thing, I can tell just by holding that gun that you're not supposed to have it. And another thing, kidnapping. There is also the fact that you stalked me. And if I really wanted to, I could charge murder. Do you understand all this?"

Marcus nodded again. It was obvious he was trying to hold back a sob.

The sirens had stopped getting closer and they were extremely loud. They were right outside the warehouse.

"I will talk with them," Arthur looked behind him for the door. It was in the far corner of the warehouse. "See what is going to be done, and I will be right back."

Arthur stood up quickly and turned around. He started walking towards the door at a slow pace. He wasn't used to walking like he normally did. His amnesiac self decided to walk with a different gait. It was a little confusing, to say the least.

There was a _click_ sound behind Arthur. And his arms were very quickly pinned behind him, Arthur feeling handcuffs tightly wrap around his wrists. The barrel of the gun hit Arthur's temple hard and it made him wince. His arms were being pulled behind him with so much force, it was almost bending him over backwards.

"Not so fast," Marcus had obviously gotten a hold of himself as he led Arthur back to the chair. "I can't believe you fell for that cry baby routine!" he laughed loudly right next to Arthur's ear.

_I can't believe it either._ Arthur thought as he was forced down roughly back onto the chair. The gun was pointed right in between his eyes. Arthur didn't move, he didn't want to feel the pain of another gun shot.

Marcus worked harder on restraining him this time, tying his hands separately so they wouldn't do anything and tying his feet as well. Arthur could hear the footsteps of police officers go around the building, obviously looking for the door.

"And you call me an idiot!" Marcus laughed some more. "I throw in a little stutter and make myself look a little younger than I am and you go all soft on me? Pathetic." Arthur felt spit hit his cheek at that last word.

Arthur chose not to talk, but Marcus yanked at the roots of his hair. Arthur winced, determined not to make a noise.

"So, you tell me the Queen would give a shit about you the way you are now?" Marcus hummed a little in thought. "How about if you were beaten to a bloody pulp? Would she care then?"

Arthur felt a fist slam into his gut and it hurt too much just for a punch. That was where he was shot. Arthur grunted and coiled inward at the impact, Marcus letting go of his hair now.

That punch was hard, must have been aided by something. Arthur didn't know. But he coughed with his mouth closed and he tasted blood.

"You know, I have to admit," Marcus was back to his damn cocky attitude again, "you caught me a little off guard. Don't know how you got though those handcuffs. And that rouse you put on! A headache…What a stupid excuse for you being weak."

"Wasn't weak," Arthur gasped for air. He heard pounding on that door. Of course it was locked! Someone would need to break it down…

"Sure it wasn't," Marcus's voice was full of sarcasm.

Arthur was about to say something, counter, but the door slammed onto the ground with a giant thud. Arthur's hair was nearly pulled out of it's roots as he was forced to look up. Marcus had moved behind him and Arthur felt a gun poised on his left temple.

The second Arthur looked up, he saw Alfred standing on top of the door, looking at Arthur in awe.

"Bloody hell, Alfred, could you be a little quieter?" Arthur snapped. In truth, even though his voice was harsh, he was happy to see Alfred. See him the way Arthur did for the past hundreds of years. Not the past couple days. Alfred was his beautiful boyfriend, the boy he raised from a child to the glowing adult he was now.

"Arthur!" Alfred practically squeaked and Arthur knew that he was terrified to see a gun pointed at him once again. The rest of the police flooded in, Alfred leaving them just enough room in front of the doorway. They all had guns pointed right at Marcus, but he just laughed. The gun shook slightly in Arthur's hair.

"Step any closer or make a move and I shoot his brains out," Marcus shouted triumphantly.

Arthur stared at the people in front of him uncomfortably. It humiliated him having Alfred and Francis see him like this. Francis had snuck in behind Alfred after the commotion was over.

"And it wouldn't kill me, just like last time," Arthur sighed. "Shoot me all the hell you want and I will just keep coming back."

Arthur looked to Alfred, who's eyes widened with what he figured was joy. Arthur knew what he was thinking, his old Arthur was back!

"So, Artie," Alfred seemed more comfortable with the situation. "How long are you gonna let this guy toy with you? You're getting blood on my bomber, dude."

"I'm just letting him get his kicks," Arthur grinned. The mortals in the room were obviously confused.

Arthur dropped down, the legs of the chairs jutting out and making Marcus trip backwards. _BANG!_ he let out a shot in panic as he fell. Alfred ran by quickly, almost too quickly for even Arthur to see. Arthur turned the chair over so he could see what was happening behind him.

Alfred had the man pinned to the ground and he was nearly shaking him senseless.

"Don't ya dare touch mah Arthur again," Alfred threatened, his Southern accent coming in with his rage.

"Don't need to be so rude, love," Arthur sighed as he got his right hand, the one closest to the floor, out of the handcuffs connecting it to the chair. He grunted as he pushed himself up and Francis came over to help him with the other handcuff.

"Well, he was rude to you!" Alfred argued. "He freaking shot you!"

"You're point?" Arthur asked. Now that both of his hands were free, he set to work picking the locks at his feet. He had to thank his pirate days to help him pick these locks so well.

"Arthur!" Alfred whined but Arthur wasn't having any of it.

"Get off of him and let the police handle it," Arthur said. "He's not going anywhere now."

"Dammit!" Arthur looked up to see Alfred give Marcus a death glare before he stepped off of him. Marcus obviously had the breath knocked out of him as he laid there, gasping for air like a fish.

"You should have gone easier on him," Arthur sighed as he finally kicked both of his legs free. "He is human."

Arthur didn't even get a chance to stand up before he was trapped in a bear hug gifted to him by Alfred.

"God, I missed you!" Alfred leaned back just enough to see Arthur. God, had Arthur missed embraces like this.

Arthur leaned in to kiss Alfred, this one feeling a lot better than their one in the rain. This one was familiar, it felt the same as all the rest from the past. "I missed you, too," Arthur said.

"Et mois?" Francis asked, snapping Arthur back to the real world. Arthur shoved out of Alfred's grasp and turned around quickly to glare at Francis.

"You," Arthur growled. "If you ever kiss me or treat me like your bitch again, I will personally kill you."

"Missed you, too, mon cher," Francis hugged Arthur tightly.

"Frog," Arthur muttered under his breath.

"Shit! Artie!" Alfred shouted and Arthur turned his attention towards him. Something rushed past him, and Arthur could only assume who. The police force all rushed out of the door at once.

"You have _got _to be kidding me," Arthur groaned, he almost dropped to the floor, but Alfred caught him.

"Don't worry," Alfred sighed, hugging Arthur from behind. "If he shows his ugly face again, I'll kick his ass for you."

"Good," Arthur chuckled.

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>And this would be the end! Even though Marcus was a dick, I really didn't have the heart to kill him. And he makes for a better villain if he can get away, too. And I knew I had to give Arthur his memories back, but I really didn't know how to do that... So sorry if that bit sucks...<strong>

**I had a lot of fun writing this and reading everyone's happy reviews!**

**Hope everyone enjoyed it!**

**A****nd I don't own anyth****ing, like Hetalia or...anything...really.**


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